by Thomas Stone
“I never said that.”
“That’s how you’re making me feel.” She took him by the hand. “You never want to try anything new. And you used to be the wirehead, the computer guy. The guy who figured it all out. You mean to tell me you’re not curious about the simulator?”
“Of course I’m curious. I’m also concerned about our situation.”
Minerva put a finger to his lips. “Don’t be concerned. Everything’s working fine. Now is the time to be curious. Come on and I’ll show you.” Minerva sat at the console beside Bart.
*
Curled up in the corner of the locker-room like a great orange question mark, Tringl snored softly through open lips. Across the room, Penbrook’s neck twitched as he dozed while reclining on a long bench. Young Ellis slumped in a rusted and creaking metal chair watching the two.
The locker-room offered a room large enough for everyone to relax that was also close to the garage entrance. It was convenient but there were no electronics, no monitors, no sensors, as far as Ellis knew. They had no eyes or ears. Fagen was gone. Jennings was gone. His father was gone as well. Ellis didn’t like being underground and fidgeted for want of something to do. Slipping a hand in his trouser pocket, he pulled out an ancient harmonica. He rose and stepped to the door. The other two slumbered on as Ellis moved quietly down the hall and let himself into the garage.
He sat on the edge of the loading dock and raised the harmonica to his lips. A sad, slow tune issued forth, the tones echoing clearly in the cold air. Young Ellis played with emotion and talent, but when a sudden tapping came from the ramp, Ellis leaped to his feet. When the tapping came again, Ellis was doubly startled. He gathered his wits enough to run back to the airlock door, but when the tapping came a third time, insistent and questioning, it gave Ellis a moment’s pause. The noise sounded like how a human would knock. Perhaps his father wandering in from the desert? Ellis moved down the stairs and walked slowly to the ramp. He looked back to the airlock. Maybe he should return, get the others, follow the prudent course. The tapping came again. One, two, three. Ellis stared up the ramp. The sound was definitely coming from the door. Someone wanted in. Someone who knew this place was here.
Ellis went to the control mechanism and flipped the switch. The pneumatics responded immediately and the door began to rise. A beam of light appeared that widened as the door rose. A bright yellow sun silhouetted a figure standing at the top of the ramp.
There was a bellow from behind Ellis and he turned to see Tringl standing on the dock. When Ellis turned back, the figure was walking down the ramp toward him. It was Harry Irons.
Tringl ran up and hugged Harry. Harry threw an arm over Tringl’s shoulder and looked at Ellis. “You heard me knocking?”
“Yes.”
“I heard you playing. Had a hard time finding the door until I heard you.“
Penbrook came walking up. To Tringl and Ellis, he said “Who opened the door? Why didn’t you tell me? Don’t you know where you are?” Then, to Harry, “Hello Commander Irons. Glad to see you made it back. Where’s Fagen? Don’t say I didn’t tell you about the portal.”
Harry shook his head. “I don’t know where Fagen is. I lost him.”
“A wasted trip,” said Ellis. “Now Fagen’s dead too.”
“I didn’t say he was dead.”
“He might as well be.”
“That’s not so. That’s Edward Fagen, the most notorious man in the entire Braithwaite empire, a living legend. Traveler of stars. Never count him out.”
*
The light from the lichen reflected off the water in soothing undulating waves. Fagen remained motionless while in the perfect quiet a starkly white, birdlike creature sailed across the air of the cavern and lit on a lichen-crested boulder at the edge of the shadows. Paying no attention to Fagen, it spread its albino wings and craned its neck as it settled into position a hundred meters across the water. The disturbance started a single ripple at the base of the crag that spread in an ever-increasing arc across the pond. Fagen watched in rapt fascination. The creature paid no heed to Fagen and gazed in sphinx fashion out over the placid water.
Fagen was sore from the tumble he had taken while trapped in the underground chamber. In an effort to loosen up, he stretched the muscles in his back and arms. Watching the bird, he sat on the cushioning sand, resting against the pack. In blessed relief, the air inside the cavern was cool. Fatigue and the peace of the place settled upon him and he closed his eyes.
Moments later, a man quietly stepped from the rocks onto the beach. He took off his shoes and in bare feet, while holding the shoes in one hand, walked across the sand toward Fagen . He walked silently but Fagen sensed his approach and opened an eye. The man stopped two meters away and squatted before Fagen.
Fagen didn’t move. He didn’t have to in order to watch the stranger because the man was directly in front of him, posing no threat. He wore old-fashioned spectacles of a sort that was the fashion on Earth long before Fagen was born and, as the stranger looked at Fagen, he removed the glasses and cleaned them with a handkerchief. Putting them on again, he peered closer at Fagen. “Ah,” he said, “you’re awake.”
Fagen tilted his head and asked, “Who are you?”
“Well, if you’ve managed to get yourself this far, then I’m the one you’re looking for.”
Fagen’s left hand moved to the stunner strapped to his side.
The man dropped his shoes and put out his palms in a calming gesture. “That’s not necessary. I mean you no harm. Please, let’s be calm. Let’s talk.”
Fagen paused, hand resting on the butt of his weapon. The man did not appear threatening. “Who are you?”
“You can call me Eli. Actually, you can call me anything you like.”
“Eli will do. Is this your place?”
“In a manner of speaking.” He sat back, legs crossed.
“Where are the women?”
Eli leaned forward. “They are available and safe.”
“That’s why I’m here,” said Fagen, rising to his feet. “If you’d kindly show me where they…”
Eli remained where he was but urged Fagen to relax. “Please sit. There is time for everything. Have some water.” He cupped his hands and when Fagen looked, water materialized. More amazing, he removed his hands and the water remained where it was, a globe of amorphous, clear liquid roughly in the shape of his cupped hands floating in the air.
Fagen reached out, cupped his hands around the water and drew it to his lips. He glanced at Eli before tasting.
“It’s clean,” the man encouraged. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”
Fagen drank it down. He lowered his hands, drying them on his trousers and sat before Eli, leaning on his pack as before. Fagen studied him closely in the semi-darkened atmosphere of the cavern. He wasn’t an apparition, a hologram or any other synthetic medium Fagen could think of.
“Do you know where you are?” Eli asked.
Fagen looked around. “I’m in a massive natural cistern in the desert of Mirabel.”
“Yes. The water here is pure. It’s part of the power of this place.”
“Does this place have a name?”
Eli shook his head. “Name’s not important. It’s been here a long time without a name.” Eli smiled. “But I can tell you what it is.”
“Okay.”
“It’s a Crevah. You’re in the land of dreams.”
“And you’re not everything you seem.”
“You got me there. This form,” Eli spread his hands, “is more settling for human visitors I think.”
“Others have been here?”
“Humans or otherwise?”
“Otherwise?”
“You know what I mean. Sentients from off-planet. Yes, others have come. Not often, but some do find their way here.”
“This form you’ve taken…”
“Yes?”
“It cloaks another?”
“Now Edward Fagen, you already
know the answer to that. You know what I am, don’t you?”
Edward nodded. “Yes, I think so.” he answered. There was an awkward moment of silence as Fagen processed the information. Finally, Fagen asked, “What do you have planned for me?”
Eli froze for an instant, just long enough for Fagen to realize Eli was taking a breath through his nose, literally testing the air. “You’re not afraid,” Eli stated. Fagen didn’t answer, but Eli continued.
“Well, maybe you’re just tired. This is a tranquil place, a good place for a nap. Some of my past visitors were afraid, most of them actually. It makes for stunted discussion.”
“I’ll try to keep up with you.”
“Thank you. But to your question: what do I have planned for you? There’s an intricate answer, but any intention on my part was not for you directly but that of your role within a greater undertaking.”
“You mean because I originally came here for kitzloc essence?”
Eli smiled. “You still haven’t got it. You’re here because of a confluence of forces. You are acting a role within that context.”
“I’m not acting. Nobody’s controlling me.”
“There are different levels of control. Think about this: Harry was infected with the expectation he would return. That’s when the intention was set.”
“So. Harry has been under your influence all along?”
“No. Harry had to be free to work through the primary influences, to grow into what he is. And like you, he works best when he makes all the choices.”
“As long as he lives through it.”
“As long as Harry remains on Mirabel, his health will only improve. His powers will continue to grow. There is no going back for Harry. Harry is adjusting. He wouldn’t want to go back to being like he was. Even so, he needs time to adjust. Power such as that Harry now possesses requires a sense of responsibility.”
“I’m told there are other cases that lead to a fatal outcome. Infected people die.”
“Some of the time, it’s regrettably true, but not Harry.”
Fagen narrowed his eyes at Eli. “What are you?”
Eli adjusted his glasses and licked his lips. “It’s a large question. Like you, I am a member of a capable species, what you call sentient. The species kitzloc is old, Edward. Eons. We’ve had a long time to develop in a number of ways. We have no need of technology and want for nothing. We live long, happy lives. Evolutional and cultural constraints have adapted us. We’ve always been on Mirabel. We live our lives just as you live yours, by occupying ourselves with pursuits of interest. We identify the rare threat and mind our own business.”
“Why did you bring us here? What is this confluence of forces?”
“The only threat you could bring would be that others will follow. As you might say, the word is out on the kitzloc. That must be changed. Ergo, Harry’s role in the tale.”
“How?”
“The confluence is more difficult to explain. It’s like diverse destinies coming together for a particular purpose. Could be good, could be bad. In any case, we want to be forgotten and left alone. To that end, many years ago we decided to use our powers of influence at the appropriate time.
“How’s that working for you?”
“Right on schedule.”
*
“Traveler of stars, my arse. He’d be better off if he was somewhere out in space.” Penbrook waved his hands toward the ceiling.
Harry smiled at the irascible old man. “If we can get a fix on him, we can go to him.”
Ellis asked, “How are you going to do that? The kitzloc have this area under EM blackout.”
“Simple. We’ll take the truck and drive until I can get a connection with Minerva. They’ll have a fix from his locator beacon and pass along the coordinates.”
“I expect you’ll want me and the boy to go with you.”
“I want to go,” said Ellis.
“Let’s do it,” said Harry. “Grab your gear.”
Ellis hurried away with Penbrook reluctantly following. Harry and Tringl crossed to the truck, opened the cab door by voice command and climbed inside. The onboard systems were in standby so Harry brought them up to active mode. Consoles and monitors came to life. A security screen showed Ellis, carrying his weapon and pack, coming from the airlock door. Penbrook followed carrying his kit. As they approached, Harry popped a side door and a ladder extended to the ground. They climbed up and deposited their things inside. Ellis climbed back down and ran to the door switch. More slowly, Penbrook climbed down behind him and walked to the switch.
“Hold on there,” Emory said to Ellis. “I’ll take care of that.”
“I can do it,” said Ellis.
Penbrook pushed past him and reached to a knob on the side of the switch. “Sets the auto-shut sequence. It’ll close by itself three minutes after the door is opened.”
They returned to the truck and when they were secure, Harry drove onto the ramp and out into the morning light. Tringl passively sat in the passenger seat.
Harry checked comms as soon as they were out, but there was no response from Minerva across the spectrum, only a wall of white noise. How far did he have to go? Time was essential. Harry hadn’t been completely forthcoming with Ellis and Emory. If he could establish a data link with the ship, he believed he could enter the VR Crevah and, by using its power, transport himself to wherever Kathleen, Fagen, and Bobbi were.
Gusts of wind lifted up great swaths of sand that rose like sails into the sky. Harry drove north through the troughs between dunes, waiting for the onboard computer to tell him a link with Minerva/Arai had been established. He could feel Tringl’s calming influence beside him although he knew for certain he didn’t need it anymore.
The transformation was complete. He wasn’t going to die and he hadn’t morphed into something unsightly. He wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t kitzloc. Not entirely.
A voice broke through the loudspeaker, startling them and rousing Harry from his musings. It was a voice that spoke in perfect English, sounding like a young college professor. “Greetings Earthlings. We have your position and are awaiting instructions. Good to have you back. We were getting a little worried.”
At first, even Harry didn’t know who it was, but then it dawned on him it was Arai. “Good to hear your voice. I need a high speed datalink into the computer. Can you take over this bus remotely from your position?”
“Establishing connections as we speak. All links up.”
“Do you have a locator fix on Fagen or Kathleen or Bobbi?”
“Fagen just popped up 350 kilometers northwest of you. Negative on the girls. Sorry. But you know, without signal relays I can only see so far.”
“Put us on a course to Fagen’s position on autopilot.”
“Will do. However, I do have a suggestion.”
“Yes?”
“Perhaps I could come down, pick you up and transport you myself. 350 kilometers is a lot of ground to cover by your mode of transportation. I could send the shuttle if you prefer…”
“Better not to chance it. The Braithwaite ship would be sure to notice. Besides, by the time you get here, I’ll already be there.”
Harry turned from the driver’s console to look at Penbrook. “We’re going to be riding for awhile. Make yourselves comfortable. If you need anything, ask Tringl.”
Penbrook and Ellis looked questioningly at the dozing alien.
“What are you going to do?” asked Penbrook.
Harry reached for a hidden compartment and extracted a wireless apparatus.
Penbrook saw it. “You’re going to VR?”
Harry shrugged. “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us. Why not?”
Why not indeed? Harry reclined his seat and slipped the apparatus over his eyes. Ellis shook his head. “I don’t like this,” the young man muttered. Wordlessly, Penbrook turned to the hatch leading out of the spacious cab and exited into the truck’s rear compartments. A bewildered Ellis looked at Harry ly
ing motionless in the driver’s seat, then to Tringl who was typically nonplussed and asleep. With a sigh, Ellis followed Penbrook.
As Ellis entered the simulcon maintenance compartment, Penbrook was already on his way up the ladder leading to the upper compartments. “Might as well take a look around,” Penbrook said as he disappeared through the open ceiling hatch.
“Who’s driving this thing?” asked Ellis.
Penbrook’s mumbled reply came from above. “Someone remotely from orbit.”
Ellis started up the ladder after Penbrook. “How long is it going to take to get to where we’re going?”
Penbrook didn’t answer and when Ellis climbed through the hatch, it wasn’t immediately apparent where he’d gone. Through a wide plate of plexiglass embedded in the bulkhead, Ellis saw another room with individual VR couches. To his right a door stood ajar.
“Hey, old man,” called Ellis, “where’d you go?” Ellis stepped to the open door. It was a kitchen and a lounge of sorts. Penbrook was across the room opening pantry doors and looking inside each.
“What are you doing?”
Penbrook stopped and looked at Ellis. “What does it look like? I’m hungry. I’m looking for something to eat.”
“Aren’t you concerned about what’s happening?”
Penbrook shrugged. “Not as much as you.” He looked inside a cupboard with interest then spoke over his shoulder. “They’ve got food here and a replicator. You should take advantage. I’m going to.” He punched buttons on the replicator console and a hum issued from inside the device. In seconds, cooking smells filled the space.
“I should have left with Jennings,” said Ellis.
“It doesn’t really matter what you do. You’ll only end up doing what they want you to do.”
“They who?”
Penbrook gave the young man a sidelong glance. “You know who I mean.”
“Well, aren’t you talking to them? Don’t you know what’s going on?”
A chime sounded and Penbrook removed his food from the replicator. What appeared to be a steak and potato steamed from the plate. He began rummaging through drawers again. “Must be utensils here somewhere…”